


Choices

by Yods



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Ethical Dilemmas, Gen, Identity Reveal, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yods/pseuds/Yods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brett is cold and tired when he meets Daredevil in an alley.  And finds out more about him than he needs to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

It was quite dark by the time he started to make his way home and he was exhausted. Since they rid the police force of Fisk’s men they’d been undermanned. Brett had been working double shifts and helping with the new recruits. All very good and necessary, but he was running on fumes and wanted nothing more than to just go home and fall into a warm bed and not move for at least a month.

It started to rain.  
The rain smeared the reflections of street lamps and drowned out distant sounds of traffic. It was just Brett in the cold and wet, alone. He tried to ignore it – almost home: warm and dry and _sleep_.  


In the half-asleep silence a bump from the nearby alley was unexpectedly loud. Brett paused. It was just a sound – probably nothing. And besides, he wasn’t on duty. The rain started to seep down his neck and shoulders, the cold hurt his bare hands.  
He sighed and stepped into the alley. “Who’s there?” he started to say, when the answer made itself known – silhouette crouched on a railing of the fire-escape above, posing like the god-damn batman.  
Training kicked in. He drew his gun before he had time to think. “Don’t move.”  


Brett regretted stepping into the alley. He didn’t particularly want to arrest the Daredevil. Not that what he did wasn’t very illegal. Not that he approved of his methods. But he’d done good work, and with the force in the state it was they needed all the help they could get. And trying to arrest him was probably just going to get him beaten up.  


Brett rapidly blinked the stinging rain out of his eyes, keeping his gun trained at the figure above as he slowly raised to his feet, then toppled off the fire escape and _didn’t move_.  
It was quiet in the alley. Brett could barely feel his hands, the gun. It was particularly quiet from the pile of trash bags where the Daredevil had landed. If he hadn’t stepped into the alley he could have been home by now. But now he probably needed to call an ambulance. He put his gun away cautiously.  


“You OK?” He listened to the rain drumming on a dumpster somewhere in the back of the alley.  


“I think I may have been drugged.” was the surprisingly intelligible answer. Maybe he shouldn’t have put away his gun.  


“I’m going to call an ambulance.” Brett grasped for his phone.  


“Nope, I’m fine.” A barely visible shadow detached from the pile of trash, attempted to stand and promptly fell over.  


“That’s convincing.” It occurred to him that the voice was lighter than when Daredevil had beaten him up. Probably to disguise his identity.  


He wasn’t entirely willing to arrest him, or call an ambulance which would have the same effect, but he couldn’t leave him here either. Brett sighed. He was already drenched and shivering.  


“Is there someone I can call for you?” He regretted asking before the words left his mouth.  


“I don’t think I should be giving details on people willing to help me.” There was something about that voice…  


“You seem to need help all the same. I can’t leave you here, bad news may find you.”  


“I am bad news.” He almost sounded amused. Brett wasn’t.  


“Normally I’d agree with you.” He hesitated. “You sound different from the last time.”  


There was a moment of silence. Then the low growl he recognized. “I _am_ bad news.” It was laughable under the circumstances.  


“It would be more convincing if you could actually stand up.”  


“That’s a compelling point, counselor.”  


Something slotted into place. “Murdock?!” That wasn’t possible. “Shit” replied the pile of trash bags.  


There was little point in being cautious now. Brett marched forward, grabbed Daredevil by the arm and dragged him to a sitting position. This should have gotten him punched in the face and half strangled. Instead the asshole waved at him and grinned. “Hey, Brett.”  


Brett let go of his arm and Daredevil.. shit, Murdock, flopped back into the trash. “This stinks.”  


“Yes, it does.” Brett practically growled back at him. “Does Foggy know about this?”  


“He was so pissed when he found out.” Murdock’s face was comically tragic. “He left me.”  


“Apparently he got over it.”  


“Yes. Foggy came back.” Brett wondered what had happened in his life that he would find himself soaking wet and shivering in an alley in the middle of the night, with the Daredevil positively beaming up at him from the trash.  


He needed to make a decision. Arrest him, walk away, or help. He didn’t want to arrest him. On the balance he believed the Daredevil did good. And he helped people before they got hurt, instead of just arresting perps after.  
But he was a cop. He was clean. Was he really willing to give that up? To become a crooked cop like all the others? The ones Daredevil helped put away?  
He could walk away – go home, go to bed. And Murdock would probably die of exposure in the state he was in. “Shit”  


His frozen fingers fumbled with his phone.  


“Nelson, I’ve got something of yours. You’d better come get it before I change my mind.”  


“Hmmm, what?” There was some indistinct mumbling. At least someone was warm in bed. “Brett? What are you talking about.”  


“Daredevil”  


There was silence one the line. “Uhm. What…?” More silence. Brett listened to the rustling of the rain.  
Then came tentatively: “Why would you call me about Daredevil?”  


“Don’t fuck with me right now, Nelson.” The silence continued on the line. “He says he’s been drugged or something, and I just saw him fall off a fire-escape.”  


Foggy sighed. “Sorry Brett. … is he OK?”  


“I’m fine Foggy” Murdock called, sounding quite perky. How on earth had he heard that?  


“He says he’s fine.”  


Foggy huffed. “That could mean anything.”  


“Yeah, he tried to get up a while ago and just flopped down again. Just get down here, and bring a change of clothes, we can’t take him anywhere dressed like that.”  


“Good point, be there in 10.”  


Foggy hung up. Brett went back to listening to the rain, pacing, shivering. His shoes were starting to squelch. He put his hands in his armpits, trying for some body heat. He wondered whether lying in the trash was comfortable – he was barely keeping to his feet and Murdock still wasn’t moving.  


“You still conscious?”  


“I said I’m fine.”  


“There’s something seriously wrong with you.” He didn’t even seem to be cold.  


“I get that a lot.”  


The rain increased. At least there wouldn’t be anyone on the streets in this weather. Brett wondered how many laws he had broken by staying, helping. What would happen if he got caught. If it was worth it to be compromised. If Foggy made the same calculations when he found out.  
At least next time his mom went on about how great Foggy was he could tell her he was associated with a known criminal.  
That probably wouldn’t even help. His mom loved Daredevil.  


Hurried footsteps approached, barely audible over the deluge.  
Foggy was panting. “Man, it’s freezing out here.”  


Brett just glared at him.  
He continued to stare as Nelson fussed over Daredevil and managed to pull off the cowl. Yep, that was definitely Murdock, goofy grin, and unfocussed eyes.  
He kept watching as the two of them squabbled over how to get Murdock dressed when he could barely stand. Watched as he peeled off the suite in the pouring rain, all hard muscle and scars, definitely Daredevil.  
Eventually they stuffed the suite in the bag Foggy brought with him and Foggy half-dragged the still loopy Murdock, now dressed in street clothes, out of the alley with him.  


“Do you have someone that can get him checked out?” Please don’t mentioned a name, he didn’t need to know any more.  


“Yes. Thank you Brett.” Foggy sounded sincere. He usually was.  


“Don’t thank me. Get him somewhere safe and keep me out of this.”  


The two of them stumbled off and Brett turned and walked home. He barely even felt the cold anymore.  


Once he got home he just dropped his sodden clothes on the floor and crawled into bed. Finally.  
Finally he was warm. Finally he was dry. Finally he could sleep. His whole body ached.  
Thank God it was over and he was out of it. He just knew that when he woke up tomorrow he’ll regret the decision he’d made.  


And he knew that when he woke up tomorrow he would call to check that Murdock was OK.


End file.
